(alot of hcs/au stuffs, but this is one where instead of stabbing himself w the venomshank, he stabbed you, u cn be as much plant as you want n feel free 2 edit this 2 ur liking. leetspeak should work fine considering its added in advanced description)

The familiar sound of footsteps was a familiar one, something that you had to cling to when it was the only thing you could recognize and look forward too on the daily. A soft spritz of water, following the sound of a shuffle, a box, food. Who knows what youd been eating since his father had forced him to take you home, and care for you till you were healthy.

As healthy as a plant could be, anyways.

When he'd stabbed you with that occursed Venomshank, things took a sickening twist, as bile seeped into your blood directly from the stab site, resulting in a minute of excruciating pain, leaves pushing roots through blood vessels and sprouting and tearing through the skin and hair follicles of your arms, torso rotted and fell, leaving a chilling tale of what was once intestines and vital organs. Blood, mysterious green plant ooze, and vomit were a very present sight during that transformation, and when it was done, the fact you could feel every sensitive new ligament and feel the way your torn open skull almost throbbed. You were too tired to fight back, leaving the horrifying view of a work in progress hero to lie in still subdusion.

He took you home. To the treehouse, obviously. You were HUGE, and he didnt have any place else to leave you. Partially he kept you because not only was having a giant carnivorous plant to sit under his treehouse objectively badass, but botany was a minor hobby, letting anyone know about that was too embarrassing to admit however, so he just didnt. Beneath the treehouse, he spent time, feeding you (whatever small critter he could get you to swallow) or sometimes even snacks from his lunchbox. He'd expected aggression, but there was mainly lethargy and weary movements to you, and he wouldnt complain considering hed seen what those jaws could do.

Misting, yup, thats what time it was. He'd come down twice a day to spritz his precious plants since it was spring and there was already enough moisture in the rainforest to keep a plant happy as can be, and did it for good measure. After spending time in his care, the eventual noticing through the hazy mind you had yourself trapped in, he had other plants. A lot, actually, simply staying near the base of the tree (some even stayed inside! Lucky things.) and existing purely for Griefers own enjoyment, lest he allow them to wilt and die.

"D0NT 4CT UP, 34T UR F00D L1K3 4 G00D PL4NT ."

Brad's voice was sudden, albeit mumbled, grabbing you and touching up a flower petal on your body, his picking at was soft, with familiarity, like he knew what every plant needed. He probably cared for the shrubbery and flowers and little sprouts he kept better then he cared for himself.

It was endearing, to say the least.